


Make Our Own Luck

by ElegantFeatherDuster



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegantFeatherDuster/pseuds/ElegantFeatherDuster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part about it is: Tony can't stop watching him. He's interesting and anyone could tell you that Tony is terrible at staying away from interesting projects no matter how bad they're liable to be for his health. The brand new Loki is twenty-something going on several thousand and utterly unlike his mad, power-hungry predecessor.</p><p>Tony has also just agreed to let Loki use his shower without thinking and in retrospect, it is probably not one of the best decisions he's ever made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty shameless Agent of Asgard flavored Loki/Tony Stark. Loki is by no stretch of the imagination underage (physically or mentally) but if the age disparity between him and everyone's favorite hot uncle Tony Stark bothers you, consider yourself duly warned.

Thor swears up and down in all the colorful language of Asgard that Loki isn't a threat anymore. He cajoles and bribes and makes promises until they all give in and let him bring Loki into the tower.

“He did it to save me,” Thor says but all anyone can think about is the memory of Loki thrusting a golden sword clean through his brother's chest in a shower of blood and magic. Loki, who is no longer a child and Loki who suddenly seems dangerous again now that he doesn't have big eyes and skinny limbs and a mouth full of french toast.

The worst part about it is: Tony can't stop watching him. He's _interesting_ and anyone could tell you that Tony is terrible at staying away from interesting projects no matter how bad they're liable to be for his health. This brand new Loki is twenty-something going on several thousand and utterly unlike his mad, power-hungry predecessor in both his mannerisms and the lack of wrinkles around his ageless eyes.

There's always a lot to do as an Avenger and more still for the owner of a big, multinational corporation. So it's easy enough to bury himself in work and the things that actually matter and ignore the occasional comings and goings of the mischievous god who stands in Thor's shadow.

There are new suits to build, enemies to fight and worlds to save. But somehow it seems like Loki's there more and more, lurking at the edges of Tony's awareness until Tony wants to snap at him to go away.

Loki drinks beer with Thor and spends half this time on his phone when he isn't busy with his project of the week that everyone is always certain _has_ to be evil this time. He disappears from time to time and never explains where he's been once he returns. But for all intents and purposes, Thor's promises about his brother seem to be true. He doesn't do anything that rates higher on the trouble scale than the occasional practical joke and is generally civil to all members of the team whenever circumstances require that he interact with them.

But Loki is still Loki and even without trying he manages to make everything go to shit, or maybe it just seems that way because it's Tony's little personal universe that suffers.

Tony is in his workshop when Thor and Loki land hard on the balcony outside in a shower of gold and rainbow light, staggering and grinning and drenched in blood that doesn't appear to be their own. But then again, Tony thinks, who ever really knows with Asgardians?

For some reason that is probably ridiculous and completely beyond him, they decide to come in through his workshop door instead of taking the elevator straight up to the Avengers floor and Tony resists the urge to frown at every drip of blood that lands on the perfect, slightly off-white tile. DUM-E perks up, ready and excited to grab a mop and fail miserably at being even the slightest bit useful.

Tony watches and prays that Thor learned his lesson about patting DUM-E too hard on the head last time he was in here. Tony had eventually had to delete that incident from DUM-E's memory. The sad look on Thor's normally cheerful face every time he noticed the poor thing running away when it saw him had been the worst of it, but DUM-E teaching the other robots to follow his lead every time any one of them saw Thor had been a real pain in his ass too. There are brief, fleeting moments of his life where he regrets coming up with learning AIs.

“Welcome back,” Tony drawls, leaning back in his chair. “To what do I owe the honor of being visited by the gods?”

“We have acquired a gift for you!” Thor announces, looking inordinately pleased with himself as he glances at Loki. Loki just rolls his eyes and slings a familiar bag off his shoulder that Tony has always suspected is bigger on the inside. Loki hadn't appreciated being called Hermione, but it had been worth the narrowly avoided boot to the shin the week before to just once have an Asgardian understand one of his references.

The piece of machinery that Loki deposits onto the desk in front of him is half charred and pulsing slowly with a dull light as it oozes a gelatinous purple puddle onto the stainless steel. But it's unmistakably what Tony has affectionately started calling the transmission box from a Kree space ship and one of the newer models at that.

“Does it work?” he asks, temporarily distracted from his favorite pair of deities by the object in front of him and not sure he wants to know where they got this or why.

“Perhaps,” Loki says and that's not actually a 'yes,' but it isn't a 'no' either, Tony thinks with excitement. He's been trying to get his hands on one of these for months.

He's already half way through prying the casing off when Thor decides to take his leave and it takes Tony almost five more minutes to notice that Loki has stayed behind.

“Need something, Joe Jonas?” he asks around a screwdriver.

“May I use your shower?” Loki asks with a deep scowl at the moniker.

“Don't you have your own?” Tony asks.

“Yes,” Loki replies.

When it's clear that no more explanation is forthcoming, Tony sighs and assents by waving him towards it.

It would seem odd to most people, he knows, to have a shower cubicle sunk into the wall of his workshop. But it has served him well every time he's come home covered in more mud or foul-smelling goo than he can shake a stick at and it works just as well to shut Jarvis up for a few hours every time Tony gets to working on the same project for over three days straight without food or rest.

Tony realizes far, _far_ too late what he's just done and what a terrifically awful idea it was. Loki has no shame whatsoever and is already halfway undressed by the time he makes it across the room and by then there's bloody leather all over the floor and nothing Tony can do.

He stares in silence from behind his work station and thinks that if Loki didn't want him looking, he shouldn't have asked to use the shower down here in the first place. It's a big tower with a lot of bathrooms; he could have had his pick.

Loki sheds the remainder of his clothing with grace and, huh, he does it all by hand like an average person. He's thin under the tunic and leather and fur, but it's not the body of a kid by any stretch of the imagination. Tony has no doubt that Loki could pick him up and throw him just as easily now as when we was older. He's got hair like a pop star from the early 2000s and surfs Yamblr and Pinstagram whenever Thor drags him to team meetings and Tony hates that it makes him feel more like the team's creepy old uncle than ever. But Loki's definitely not a kid anymore.

Loki steps under the water, the blood sliding down and off his skin in washes of red, spiraling down the drain under his feet. He waits until the water runs more clear than pink and then smirks to himself where Tony can't see.

“Are you going to sit there all day, Tony?” he says, loud enough not to be misheard. “Or are you going to join me?” There's a sharp intake of breath across the room and it makes his smirk grow.

It's got to be a trick, Tony thinks even as he pushes himself to his feet hesitantly.

Loki doesn't call him by his first name, he thinks as he rounds the desk.

He must want something.

The water is hot when Tony steps under it, soaking through his clothing in a matter of moments and slicking his hair down against his head. Loki makes a pleased, humming sound when Tony presses up along the line of his back and spreads slow, careful hands across the skin of his stomach. It's there and gone, the moment of hesitation like he can't believe he's being allowed this and then the confidence asserts itself again and Tony's hands slide lower, tips of his index fingers just skimming along the base of Loki's cock before he drags them back up to explore the rest of him. Those hands follow the line from his stomach to his sternum and then one hand curls delicately up along the line of his throat, not threatening or even possessive, but simply curious.

Loki tips his chin up, allows Tony's fingers to skim along the tender skin underneath his jaw and shivers at the vulnerability of it. Tony couldn't hurt him, not really, but that's not the point. The point is that Tony won't even try, not here, not now.

“Is this a trick?” Tony murmurs in his ear. “Or do you really want this?”

“Will you believe my answer?” Loki murmurs back, turning his head.

“I might want to,” Tony says.

Loki doesn't answer him, couldn't possibly make it that easy, but he does twist the last little bit to kiss him and is pleased to find that Tony reciprocates easily and without hesitation.

Loki reaches both hands back and curls his fingers under the edges of Tony's belt, teasing and light until he has a solid grip and then with a sharp jerk, he hauls Tony's hips right up against his ass. It draws a huffed laugh out against his hair and Tony grinds against him by way of a reply, making it clear he knows what's going on here.

“You don't fight fair,” Tony chuckles, letting Loki spin to face him before crowding him up against the wall of the narrow space with a grin.

“All is fair in love and war,” Loki quotes, his return smile sharp and devious.

“And which one is this?” Tony hums, leaning closer.

“Neither, I suppose,” Loki admits and slides wicked fingers under the hem of Tony's shirt.

Tony kisses him again and between the two of them they somehow manage to get Tony's shirt up and over his head to land on the floor with a wet slump. Loki skims light fingers over the arc reactor, tracing the ring of its casing and although Tony doesn't flinch away, he sees the flicker of concern in Tony's expression and doesn't move to touch it again.

They work together to tug Tony's pants down around his hips. Tony has always abhorred the feeling of wet denim, so it's a blessing when he's completely free of his oil-stained jeans and able to box Loki in against the wall with his forearms.

The little shit is just grinning at him, cocky as anything and god, but Tony wants to see that impertinent mouth silenced and stretched around him. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be Loki's intention if the confident way he grabs at Tony's ass and drags their hips together again is any indication.

“Bossy,” Tony murmurs against his lips and rocks forward experimentally to feel his length slide alongside Loki's.

“Shut up, old man,” Loki says and it makes Tony laugh.

“Oh, is that how it's gonna be?” he asks.

“That's exactly how it's going to be,” Loki says and allows Tony to spin him around again and push him against the wall firmly in retaliation.

Whatever snide reply Tony has dies on his tongue when Loki shifts, spreading his legs as far apart as the space will allow and arching his back in clear invitation. It's a move designed specifically to distract him, Tony is under no illusions about this fact. But it doesn't stop him trailing fingertips down along the curve of Loki's spine, following the stream of water that trickles down along the indentation.

The teasing press of his fingertips against Loki's entrance is followed by a slight hitch of breath, seen more than heard over the sound of the water. Tony has a reeling moment of curiosity where he thinks that this body is brand new and while he has no doubt that at some point in his thousands of years, Loki has done this before, perhaps many, many times, he has no idea if Loki has ever done this in _this_ particular body.

He's has never really been one for conquering, for whatever taste of dominance or masculinity other men find in being the first. But it is oddly satisfying to think he might be helping Loki christen his newest vessel in such a splendidly debauched way. It's a little like having sex on the hood of his brand new Porsche and, wow, that's definitely an image he's going to need to return to when Loki isn't right in front of him wet, naked and waiting.

“Perhaps next time,” Loki says and pushes back against his fingers, more of a demand than a request.

It's unclear whether Tony said some of that out loud, or if Loki had just made a decent stab at what he was thinking and got lucky. He supposes it doesn't matter either way.

It's absolutely maddening, Loki has the presence of mind to think, that a man can have two fingers buried in him and still manage to talk so much between kisses and careful, amused hints of teeth against skin.

“If you're capable of running your mouth off so much,” Loki sighs. “Maybe you should put it to better use next time.”

“There's going to be a next time?” Tony asks and he mostly teasing, but there is just the barest hint of a question in his tone.

“Depends on how well you do,” Loki groans, rocking back to meet him.

“So, what, you want me to suck you off next time? Or is it that you'd rather I used my tongue than my fingers,” and there, a gasp and a groan that make Tony rather proud of himself. He's going to have to remember that.

He doesn't have any lube and he tells Loki this, but Loki just laughs him off and ten seconds later Tony thinks he might actually like magic a whole lot more than he thought because without warning his fingers are slick with Loki only knows what.

Loki is rewarded with another finger— they do say training is best done with positive reinforcement— and Tony twists and curls and thrusts until he finds the pattern that forces Loki to bite down on desperate, shuddering gasps.

“If you don't hurry up—” Loki threatens.

“You'll what?” Tony says, crowding closer to press a kiss to his ear.

“I'll think of something,” Loki sighs, briefly aggravated that Tony called his bluff so easily.

“I'm sure it will be very creative,” Tony teases, kissing a little lower. Loki's not sure if he expected Tony to hold him against the wall and fuck him or to take his sweet time. He honestly not sure he thought to expect anything at all. But the undercurrent of kindness in all of Tony's actions does come as something of a surprise, especially after all they have been though and all they have done to each other.

The arc reactor hums a quiet song, pressed into the space between his shoulder blades and Loki thinks that beneath it beats a far better heart than the one in his own chest will ever be.

Tony sliding into him leaves them both breathless, a series of little, careful thrusts until Tony is buried completely. Tony's grip, one arm around his waist and one curled up and around his chest would be a little too tight, but Loki isn't human and doesn't complain.

His breath is hot against the back of Loki's neck as he starts to move, rolling his hips in careful, deliberate motions that set off flares of need each time he pulls back, leaving Loki feeling empty and then fills him up again.

“Stark—” Loki breathes out with a groan. “Tony.”

It builds slowly, with Tony holding him close and maintaining his control for an admirably long time before he begins to slip. Tony feels his awareness of the rest of the world fall away and if his hips stutter and he pushes too hard and too fast every so often, Loki only makes noises that encourage him to do it again. Loki is all tight, slick heat and murmured words that Tony can't understand over the shower. But he talks back anyway, murmuring against his ear to make sure he hears. He tells Loki that he's fascinating, that Tony's never felt anything quite like the feel of him and a dozen other truths that he isn't sure Loki believes.

The noise Loki makes when Tony wraps a hand around his length and strokes from base to tip is beautiful and Tony does his best to commit it to memory even as he chases the noise, draws it out of Loki another time and then a third and a fourth.

Tony comes blindingly hard, much harder than he can remember coming in recent memory. He muffles the sound against Loki's skin and despite everything, stills manages to laugh at the way that Loki scrambles desperately when he stops moving, snarling curses at him until he starts again.

Unlike Tony, Loki's silent when he comes, jerking hard in his arms and then going still as he gasps silently through it. Tony's the one that groans, caught up in the pressure that sits on the border between perfect and far too much around his too-sensitive cock.

Loki chuckles as Tony lets him go and slides out and that's good, Tony thinks. He always loved the partners that could laugh during sex the most.

Tony shifts back to give him space and Loki uses it to turn and look at him with a quiet contemplation, the edge of a smile playing around his lips as he leans back.

There's a beat of silence and Tony is just about ready to crack a joke when Loki curls hands around his cheeks, leans in and kisses him, careful and sweet.

“Is that a thank you?” Tony asks against his mouth.

“Get out of my shower,” Loki tells him, pulling back with a gentle shove.

“It's my shower, you heathen,” Tony snaps without any real bite.

“I will force you,” Loki tells him.

“That I'd like to see,” Tony snarks. But in the end he decides not to test his luck—he's already had far too much today—and steps out, dripping water on the floor as he reaches for the only towel.

“I just hope you're not the love 'em and leave 'em type,” Tony says and that really is pushing his luck, but it's too late to take it back now.

“I have no intention of leaving,” Loki says carelessly as he turns his face into the spray and runs fingers through his hair to straighten it out.

He misses the way that Tony smiles, just a little too fond as he wanders back towards his work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Darling, I love you more than anything," Tony says. "But there are times when I absolutely abhor you."
> 
> "I'm certain the feeling is mutual," Jarvis replies, tone bone dry, and carries straight on refusing to restore power to the coffee maker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you guys to know that this document is called _Frostiron AOA Trash_ on my computer and that I hope you're all ready to enjoy the ride with me because I have absolutely no idea where this story is headed. Let's do this thing.

"Darling, I love you more than anything," Tony says. "But there are times when I absolutely abhor you."

"I'm certain the feeling is mutual," Jarvis replies, tone bone dry, and carries straight on refusing to restore power to the coffee maker.

Tony takes it as a sign from god or maybe his past self and takes the hint, slumping into the elevator and pushing the button for his floor. It's just past 2am, which wouldn't be so bad if he weren't coming off of 34 hours being awake preceded by five hours of sleep and an Avengers mission in Australia. In short, his sleep schedule has been completely fucked for a while now and he is seriously too old for this shit.

Incidentally, he's also way too old for the devious godling he finds lounging about on his stomach in the middle of Tony's king bed without a single scrap of clothing to his name.

Tony stands there for a moment, feeling a little like there's a short circuit somewhere in the wiring of his brain. Then his exhaustion takes over again, his shoulders droop and he's able to regain all of his mental faculties.

"Alright then," he sighs, dragging his shirt off over his head as he continues on his way.

"Not as amusing a response as I was hoping for," Loki huffs, shifting to look at him with a single raised eyebrow.

"Sorry. Haven't slept in a while," Tony shrugs, pulling his belt off and not sure why he even feels the need to defend himself. It's not like Loki needs the ego boost or lacks even a modicum of confidence in his own sex appeal.

Once he's down to just his underwear, pants and socks abandoned in the general direction of the hamper, he settles on the edge of the bed and lets his eyes wander appreciatively over the shape of Loki's back and down towards his ass. Loki notices, as Tony expected he would, and spreads his legs a little wider to present him with a better view.

"Are you staying?" Tony asks, bemused.

"I had planned to," Loki replies presumptuously, gracing him with an expression that's four parts smirk and one part coy and looks well-practiced.

"Why are you here?" Tony says, sliding a hand up along the back of Loki's thigh.

"I'm avoiding guests," Loki shrugs slightly.

"At your apartment?" Tony asks and gets a nod instead of a response.

"Kick them out. It's your place," he advises.

"Unfortunately, I can't," Loki sighs and there's genuine regret coloring his voice. Tony knows the feeling.

"So you came to pester me instead?" Tony sighs, squashing the urge to laugh instead.

"Mmm," Loki hums, closing his eyes and sinking, if possible, further into the bed as he relaxes.

Loki's acting lazy and tired, but so far has been responding positively to Tony's touches. So he decides to push a little farther, teasing fingers up along the inside of his thigh and enjoying the soft, occasional changes in the pattern of Loki's breathing and the gentle, encouraging sounds he lets escape into the sheets the closer Tony gets.

When he finds Loki already loose, slick and warm where his fingers slide in without any real resistance, he's at first floored by the thought that Loki might have prepared himself for this. But then he thinks "guests" and snatches his hand away automatically.

Loki turns his head and blinks at him in obvious question.

"Who are you avoiding?" Tony asks a little more sharply than he intends.

"It doesn't matter," Loki says and it's clear he knows something is up, even if he hasn't worked out quite what it is yet.

"Did they fuck you?" Tony demands.

He knows it's rude even before Loki's expression darkens and he pushes himself up on his elbows.

"Why?" he demands flatly.

"I'm just asking," Tony lies.

"I said it doesn't matter," Loki snaps.

"So they did," Tony accuses right back.

"Stark-"

"Just couldn't get enough for the evening?" Tony interrupts and like so many things, regrets it the moment it leaves his mouth.

"Exactly," Loki says after a long, uncomfortable pause, his voice dripping in vicious sarcasm. He's pissed, Tony can tell. So much for lazy 2am sex.

"Well too bad," Tony says petulantly and flops down into the pillows because it's his room and his bed and he's sure as hell not going to be the one to walk out.

"Do you want me to leave?" Loki asks eventually, voice low. Tony can't quite work out the full spectrum of emotions contained in such a small number of words, but he's pretty sure uncertainty is one of them.

"You probably should," Tony replies, which isn't exactly the answer Loki was looking for, but it's all he has to offer.

Loki falls quiet again and somehow, Tony isn't surprised when he doesn't move because Loki has already shown his hand. If pressed, he's certain that Loki could find somewhere else to be. But this was his escape plan for the evening and that definitely means something if only Tony can work out what it is.

Loki remains silent for so long that Tony assumes he's dropped off to sleep, so it's vaguely startling when Loki shifts and sits up with a low groan.

He settles on his knees and watches Tony for a long time like he just can't decide what to make of him. The intense scrutiny is more than Tony is used to and he isn't entirely certain how to respond to it. So in the end, he does nothing at all except to watch Loki in return without lifting his head from the pillow. It's what he's been doing since they met, after all.

Loki is, as he's noticed before, all thin, lean power where Thor is raw strength. Tony understands better every day he interacts with Loki that his youth is at once the truth and a lie, that he is, in many ways, young and naïve in a way his old self never was, but that he also knows things that someone his age should never know and understands the secret paths of the universe as only an ancient one could. He is both chaos and light and magic, so much more than what Tony sees, and nothing but a young, pale boy who looks small in the sea of dark sheets around him.

Their eyes catch and hold for a moment before one or both of them drops their gaze, refusing to be the first to break whatever this moment between them is.

He's not sure how to react when Loki eventually leans towards him and even less so when Loki skims those devious hands across the front of his underwear, a new, wicked smile creeping onto his lips.

"Thought you were mad at me," Tony murmurs, never taking his eyes off of him.

"Sex is a currency like any other," Loki says, ignoring the implied question and apparently apropos of nothing. But Tony knows there's a connection; there always is. He wants to ask if Loki was paying for something earlier, if that's why he can't evict his guests, but "prostitution is illegal in most states, you know" comes out of his mouth instead because he's an asshole like that sometimes.

"It's simply a mutual exchange of favors," Loki replies airily.

"Try telling that to a court of law. Ever considered being a lawyer?" Tony snorts.

"Once or twice," Loki replies and slides his palm across the growing curve of Tony's erection, earning a sharp intake of breath.

"Not nearly enough adventure though..." Tony breathes out, priding himself on how steady his voice is in the face of Loki's ministrations.

"Mmmhm," Loki hums in agreement. "Please, let me stay, Tony."

"You're kind of creepy when you're polite and you only call me Tony when you want something," he groans softly, eyes threatening to close of their own accord.

"I just told you what I want, _Tony,_ " Loki teases, grinding the heel of his palm in a little more firmly as he strokes.

"You little shit," Tony snaps without any real heat.

"Is that a yes?" Loki smirks before leaning down to drag the flat of his tongue along the shape of Tony's dick under the fabric.

Tony wants to agree to this, he really, really does. But the comment about sex-as-payment just won't get out of his head and he just knows he'll feel guilty for weeks if he lets this happen.

"Get off me," he sighs at last and when Loki doesn't, he shoves him back with his knee, gentle but firm.

"You can stay. But that's all," he says before Loki manages to get a word in edgewise.

It's there and gone, the look of utter confusion on Loki's face, but Tony catches it anyway and it feels a whole lot like vindication.

"I don't need a return favor," Tony says just so they're absolutely clear.

Loki stays as close as he possibly can to the far edge of the bed after that, maybe because he wants to or maybe because he thinks Tony doesn't want him too close. Tony doesn't know which it is, and isn't going to disturb him just to find out.

Tony is exhausted, weary right down to his bones, but now his mind is buzzing with curiosity and it keeps him awake, staring blindly into the darkness of his room and frowning at the black behind his eyelids in equal measures.

"Loki?" he murmurs eventually into the darkness.

"What?" Loki says, replying too quickly to have actually been asleep. Tony wonders if he's also been thinking too hard for his own good.

"About last time-" he says quietly.

"It was because I wanted to," Loki replies in barely more than a whisper.

"Oh," Tony says, surprised at the strength of his relief. "Good."

He's still teetering on the edge between wakefulness and sleep when Loki curls up against his side, head cradled on his shoulder and one arm slung across his chest.

It's funny, but Tony thinks that this is the most human Loki has ever seemed, warm and heavy against his side without his silver tongue and golden horns and eyes that always look like their owner knows more than he's letting on. It's only now that Tony realizes his hair is still damp and he wonders if Loki used his own or took advantage of Tony's without asking, as seems to be his habit.

Tony smiles without opening his eyes and drapes one arm around Loki loosely before he drifts off to sleep.

Loki is gone without a trace when Tony wakes up a solid fourteen hours later and he knows better than to take it personally.

Toast and coffee at four in the afternoon are the order of the day while Tony sits at the kitchen counter reading the news. Pepper may not be his personal assistant anymore, but she does still send him a summary of everything he should know, both Stark Industries related and global, every time he returns to the country. It's one of a hundred reasons he suspects she may actually be an angel from a higher plane of existence.

He notices Thor out of the corner of his eye and when he looks, is amused to find him carrying several large cardboard boxes of cheap beer towards the main elevator.

"Where are you off to?" he asks and is met with Thor's grin over the top of the stack.

"To visit my brother," Thor replies cheerfully. None of them ever want to admit it, but it's actually incredibly endearing just how excited Thor is to hang out with his brother again without Loki trying to tear his head off at every opportunity.

"Don't take that," Tony says absently, gesturing at the boxes in Thor's arms. "Also it's illegal to give alcohol to minors."

"On Asgard, it's common for guests to bring food or alcohol with them when they visit someone's home," Thor replies, ignoring the quip about his brothers appearance.

"Loki strikes me as the quality over quantity type. At least take him something that isn't actually disgusting," Tony advises and only just manages to snatch his tablet out of harms way when Thor sets the boxes down heavily on the counter.

"What would you recommend?" Thor asks, genuinely curious.

"Well, there's a six pack of Magic Hat in the fridge. It's Clint's, but I can have Jarvis buy him more," Tony shrugs, caught off guard. It's not that Thor has never taken his advice before; he's intelligent and he does listen. It's just that Thor has very special relationships with both beer and his brother and Tony normally wouldn't dare interfere with either. What possessed him to do so now is beyond him.

In the end, Thor takes his leave with the six pack in hand, leaving Tony to deal with the boxes and placating their favorite archer when he inevitably discovers that Tony gave his post-work out beer away without permission.

One would think that there wouldn't be anything left that the team could do to surprise him. But to his utter bewilderment, Thor starts asking for advice almost every time he goes to visit his brother, which turns out to be every Saturday evening and sometimes on Tuesdays. Tony has no idea how this schedule developed, or if it's related to some other weekly occurrence—yes, Tony has gone through the Saturday night TV schedule looking for shows the pair might actually agree on to no avail— only that the schedule exists and that because of it he's developed his own unfortunate habit of selecting a new and interesting type of beer to pass on every week, right on time.

Loki doesn't show up again for a while, which is really just as well. But it's really only a matter of time before he feels compelled to drop in and cause trouble in Tony's life because nothing could ever be that simple where the god of mischief is concerned.

"That's creepy, you know. What if I'd been jerking off?" Tony says without looking up from the exceedingly delicate soldering work under his hands.

"There are very few things I could catch you doing that I would be genuinely offended by," Loki replies as he slides out of the shadows in an unused corner of the workshop. He's oddly pleased when Tony's mouth twitches up in response.

"That I do believe," Tony says, finally leaning back and setting the soldering iron down on its stand. Loki steps closer, curious despite himself and stops only when he realizes Tony is watching him.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Tony asks after a pause.

"Am I not allowed to visit?" Loki asks, veering subtly off course and schooling his expression into something more neutral.

"You're allowed, I'm just not sure I'd believe it," Tony shrugs, spinning in his chair slowly to track Loki's progress across the room.

"Lately, Thor seems set on taking me on a tour through all the varieties of beer your world has to offer," Loki says, idly flicking through a stack of blueprints.

"Does he now," Tony says, feigning a mild air of disinterest.

"You wouldn't know anything about that development, would you?" Loki asks, casting a meaningful eyebrow in his direction.

"Nothing at all," Tony lies with a straight face.

"Strange, many were brands I recall seeing in _your_ kitchen," Loki says, prowling closer. It piques Tony's interest because to his knowledge, Loki hasn't even been in the tower since Tony saw him last. He makes a mental note to ask Jarvis later and check that their security doesn't need yet another upgrade.

"I'm more of a whiskey guy. Too much beer makes you fat, you know," Tony shrugs with the ghost of a smile.

"Unfortunately, I've seen that result all too often. I believe you've met Thor's _friend_ Volstagg," Loki sighs with distaste.

"The big guy? Only once," Tony shrugs. It doesn't surprise him in the slightest that Volstagg's impressive girth can be partially attributed to the grand and ancient Asgardian drinking tradition.

"He's more than memorable enough for one meeting," Loki snorts disdainfully.

"That he is," Tony chuckles. “All of them were, really.”

"But the point stands," Loki says, giving Tony yet another very pointed look.

"I decline comment," Tony says, spinning back around to face his work and thus avoid making eye contact.

Loki catches the arm of the chair, stronger than he has any real right to be, and forces Tony to face him again. He leans over, placing a hand on the other armrest and effectively caging Tony in. He probably intends to be vaguely threatening, but Tony honestly just isn't buying it. Maybe the sheer number of face-to-face encounters he's had with supervillains in the past had desensitized him, or maybe Loki just isn't that scary anymore.

"Fine, I admit it. You're welcome," Tony says evenly, tipping his chin up to maintain eye contact.

"Normally, when wooing a potential lover with gifts, it's traditional to deliver them oneself or send a message with the messenger," Loki teases, grinning. “Or at the very least send a text. I _know_ you have my number, Stark.”

"Who said anything about wooing? Thor asked _me_ ," Tony replies too hastily. He wants to deny having Loki's number too, but there are only so many things he can protest at once and it's really the least important of Loki's accusations.

"Of course he did," Loki drawls sarcastically and oh, god, he is never going to let Tony live this down and it isn't even true.

"You have thirty seconds to get out of my workshop before I set Jarvis on you," Tony threatens, trying as hard as he can to sound like he means it.

"I'm terrified," Loki replies dryly and leans in to kiss him, the smirk still solidly in place.

Loki doesn't, as a matter of fact, leave within the allotted time or even for several hours afterwords and Tony simply can't be bothered to expend the energy it would take to kick him out.

Loki will leave on his own eventually anyway. Probably.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This continues to be unbeta'd. Sorry for the inevitable typos.

"Anthony," Thor demands urgently and even without looking up, there's really no way Tony could mistake the owner of that voice. But it's the tone that concerns him, the hint of desperation that he's rarely, if ever, heard from Thor except perhaps in situations that involve his brother.

“Shit," Tony hisses, scrambling to his feet the moment he identifies the limp, green-glad bundle of lanky limbs in Thor's arms that appears to be bleeding freely from a wound to the head, the blood wet and matted in his dark hair. He's not moving, which worries Tony more than anything because he knows that the Asgardians are tough as nails and, in this case, tricky as shit and there isn't much that could take Loki down and put that edge of panic in Thor's voice.

"Bruce-" he starts to suggest and then remembers that Bruce isn't even in the country, let alone the tower and that makes Tony the doctor in the house, never mind that not a signal one of his PhDs is in anything remotely resembling medicine.

"Fuck. Nevermind, just put him here," he says.

The big, stainless steel table is cleared with a single sweep of his arm, tools and pieces of his suit clattering to the floor unnoticed by anyone but DUM-E, who rolls forward to poke at the mess uncertainly.

Thor does as he's bid, laying Loki out carefully while Tony drags the world's largest medkit out of a cabinet and opens it with a sharp zip of metal on metal.

"What happened?" he asks, brisk and clipped without even looking back at Thor as Jarvis presents him with an array of data and medical scans.

"He was caught off guard," is all Thor has to say on the subject, which is unusually cagey for him. But now really isn't the time to push the subject, not with Loki lying there like that, so Tony files it away as a topic to pursue at a later date.

"As long as there's nothing I need to know right now," Tony replies, handing Thor a clean towel. "Hold this on the wound."

Thor complies with a nod, hands moving competently as he attempts to stanch the bleeding and Tony spares a moment to think that it's no real surprise Thor knows first aid when he's been fighting in wars for centuries longer than Tony has been alive.

"Head wounds always bleed more," Tony mutters like either of them needs to be informed of the fact. Thor only gives him the briefest of glances and another nod in reply before returning his attention to his task.

"There are several hairline fractures in Mr. Laufeyson's skull," Jarvis informs them from overhead.

"Keep talking, Jarvis. Run me through this," Tony replies quickly, drawing up all the medical knowledge he has stored in the depths of his brain. It's not that much in the grand scheme of things and Bruce probably knows more, but this whole Avengers gig tends to be do or die and he's picked up a lot along the way. It'll just have to do.

"My data on Asgardian healing factors suggests his body will be able to repair itself, given time. I would however recommend stitches and I doubt I need to instruct you to stop the bleeding," Jarvis carries on and the calm, even tone of his voice is a blessing in the midst of a sea of adrenaline and anxiety.

"Preliminary brain scans do not show any irregularities, but it may be impossible to tell for certain until he wakes up," Jarvis carries on.

"What would I do without you, darling?" Tony replies, but his heart isn't really in the quip.

Thor, at least, sags slightly beside him in relief at the news and they manage to exchange a weak smile before getting to work.

Ten stitches and more blood than Tony likes in his workshop—which is to say, any that isn't his own— later, Jarvis pronounces Loki stable and Tony permits Thor to move him to a guest bedroom on his floor.

"Don't forget to get his armor off," Tony advises as he watches Thor gently gather his brother into his arms in a way Loki probably wouldn't allow if he was conscious. Half the time Tony swears Thor forgets and sleeps in his armor, so it's not an entirely unwarranted comment.

Once Thor is gone, Tony allows himself to sag back against the table, take a steadying breath and drag a hand through the tragedy of his hair.

"Where the hell is Bruce when you need him?" he groans. "I'm not that kind of doctor."

"Nor is doctor Banner," Jarvis replies with a hint of humor.

"Maybe we should hire a team medic," Tony snorts, plucking at the wet stain on the front of his T-shirt and hating that he's already halfway through considering the security logistics.

At first, Tony feels strange sitting in the silent room with Loki lying motionless in the large bed at his side. But there's an easy, peaceful rhythm to the sound of his breathing and the subtle rise and fall of his chest under the sheets that makes Tony relax. Honestly, he doesn't even need to be here; Jarvis had assured both Thor and him that Loki was already well on his way to being just fine. But waking up alone in a strange place has always put a bad taste in Tony's mouth and he doesn't wish the experience on someone else either. Thor has been staying with his brother almost constantly during the day except when Avengers business calls him elsewhere, so that only leaves nights for Tony's self-imposed vigil.

Pepper messages him, ecstatic but deeply suspicious about the amount of paperwork he's been getting done because keeping an unconscious god company means he's spending a lot less time in his workshop and a lot more time trying to find _something_ to occupy his hands. He doesn't tell her all of this, specifically, because it would only open a door to a whole lot of questions he's not really prepared to answer and he's always hated lying to Pepper. So he tells her that has something to do with Thor and his Asgardian buddies and that Tony has had some free time as a consequence. She seems satisfied with that, and sends him a few more forms that he can tell right away aren't important, but he signs them for her anyway and sends then directly back.

Eventually, Loki opens his eyes to a blank, unfamiliar expanse of ceiling that provides no clues whatsoever about his location. There's a soft rustle somewhere off to his right, the brush of fabric on skin, only audible because it's the sole sound in the room.

He turns his head slightly, just enough to find the source, and discovers Tony sitting in a chair by the side of the bed, deeply engrossed in whatever it is he's working on. The tablet in his lap throws a wash of blue light across his features that shifts subtly when the images on the screen change. His hair is flat against his head and slightly damp, curling at the ends. Loki thinks he must have showered and can't have been there for long, but then again, there's an empty plate and a glass lying abandoned on the table, so perhaps it's more accurate to assume he left earlier in the evening and returned recently.

Loki takes his time watching, drinking in the scene that will almost certainly dissolve the moment he makes himself known. Tony looks relaxed, like he doesn't know he's being watched and for one rare, brief moment, doesn't feel the weight of all the thousands of expectations that have been placed on his shoulders every moment since he was born into this world. It's a look Loki has never seen on him before and it suits him.

Eventually, Tony chances a glance in his direction and, finding him awake, breaks into a slow, warm smile.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he says. "How's the head?"

"Where am I?" Loki croaks, ignoring both the unfortunate moniker and the question. His gaze flickers to the full glass of water waiting just out of reach on the bedside table and Tony's follows curiously. He watches as Tony sets the tablet aside and gets to his feet to retrieve it and wonders how terrible he must have looked to inspire such kindness all of a sudden.

"Guest bedroom. Sorry, I know you like to steal my sheets," Tony says as he picks up the glass.

"I absolutely do _not_ steal your sheets," Loki replies petulantly, giving Tony the best glare he can muster while on his back in an obscenely comfortable bed.

"You absolutely _do_ , you dirty rotten thief. Feeling well enough to sit up?" Tony asks.

Loki manages to lever himself into an upright position with the help of a lot of stubbornness and a bit of luck. The dull headache that's been lurking in his head since he woke up flares to painful life and he groans, ignoring the concerned half step that Tony takes towards him like he wants to help but doesn't know if Loki will accept it or snap his fingers off for trying.

Loki holds out his hand, demanding, and chugs the water when it's handed to him because it gives him a precious few seconds to pull himself together under Tony's scrutiny.

"Thor?" Loki asks after a few moments, massaging the bridge of his nose with his eyes screwed shut.

"Fine. It's the middle of the night or he'd be here instead of me," Tony tells him. Far be it from Loki to admit it, but he's secretly relieved to hear the news.

"So you're my night guard?" Loki says, managing a weak token smirk in Tony's general direction.

"Something like that," Tony says, rolling his eyes.

"Did Thor ask you to do this?" Loki sighs.

"He doesn't know," Tony says, and that brings Loki up short. The surprised look he sends Tony's way earns the huff of a laugh in return.

"I fixed you up. Had to make sure you actually made it without any permanent brain damage. How many fingers am I holding up?" Tony says, holding up his hand.

"Three," Loki says, glaring. "I can still count, thank you."

"Good," Tony says. "Jarvis can run you though some more tests later just to make sure."

"I'm fine," Loki replies shortly.

"Well, it's not like I can force you," Tony sighs, returning to his seat.

"You said you fixed me up?" Loki inquires, curious despite himself.

"Thor just waltzed into my workshop carrying you and covered in blood. I swear I almost had a heart attack," Tony laughs, shrugging it off like a joke but Loki can see right through him.

"You were worried about me," he smirks, grinning at deer-in-the-headlights expression that's there and gone on Tony's face before he settles back into his standard, vaguely amused mask.

"See, the thing is," Tony says. "Even if that were true— which it isn't— no one would believe you." It's not completely true; Loki could probably convince certain key parties if he wished to. But it might take some doing and he doesn't really have anything to gain from it other than annoying Tony which, although an amusing hobby in its own right, just isn't worth the effort.

"One would think you'd be glad for the chance to be rid of a one more villain," he hums, rearranging the pillows to lean back against them. It comes out more serious than he intended, but there's no taking it back now.

"I wouldn't really call you a villain these days," Tony shrugs.

"Oh?" Loki replies with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"More of a grade-A pain in my ass," Tony chuckles.

"Not yet. But I could be," Loki replies, voice dripping with innuendo as Tony laughs outright.

"Against all of my better judgment, I do find you oddly charming," he admits, grinning at Loki.

"You just liked the sex," Loki quips.

"No. Well, yes, I did. But that's not what I meant," Tony says, and it's true: Loki is charming in his own way. He's intelligent, handsome, clever and he's got a generous dash of that old-fashioned swashbuckle charm. There's rarely a dull moment, for good or for ill, when he's around.

Loki gives him an odd look, just a slight pause and a subtle, curious twitch of his mouth.

"I believe I misjudged you, Stark" he says slowly, a reluctant admission of the truth.

"What?" Tony asks, thrown by the sudden turn.

"You have a reputation," Loki tells him with a meaningful look.

"I have a lot of reputations. Which one are we talking about?" Tony grins, falling back on old habits to cover the fact he has no idea where this is going.

"You have a reputation for liking meaningless sex," Loki states bluntly, no sugar-coating of the truth.

"Sometimes. It depends. Lately I've been growing out of it, I guess. More important things to think about," Tony shrugs, not entirely sure how to articulate his feelings on the topic. It's only in hindsight that he realizes he could have blamed it on the security protocols for the tower. It's annoying to get a guest into an Avengers floor for one night and then revoke their access the next morning and as is so often true, the joke would have been easier to tell than the truth.

"As I said, I misjudged you," Loki repeats, still with that too-meaningful look.

"I'm... not sure if this is some kind of underhanded compliment or not," Tony says slowly and meets Loki's half smile with one of his own.

"Perhaps it's an apology for the other day, when I showed up in your bed," Loki says and wow, Tony doesn't think he's ever heard of Loki apologizing for anything in his life. But then again, maybe Loki really has turned over a new leaf. That, or he thinks apologizing will get him something else he wants. Tony's not actually sure, but he's not stupid enough to think it isn't possible.

"I thought that was one of those 'we shall never speak of this again' things," Tony replies, drawing a sigh and a disapproving look out of Loki in return.

"Shall I tell you a secret, Stark?" he drawls.

"I think you will if you feel like it," Tony shrugs. He wants to know, of course he does, but Loki is possibly the last person to whom he would admit it. Loki will tell him or he won't, but Tony sure as hell isn't going to beg.

"There wasn't anyone at my apartment that night. It was just the right type of vague excuse," Loki says and okay, Tony hadn't actually expected the aforementioned "secret" to be an honest to god admission that Loki had lied to him for his own ends.

"But you—?" he starts and then stops when Loki rolls his eyes.

"It's as if you've never even heard of masturbation," Loki says, all dry humor. There's a beat and then Tony bursts into honest laughter.

" _Jesus_ , Loki," he says between breaths and watches Loki grin at him slowly.

“You're mixing up your religious icons, there,” Loki snarks.

"Then why did you get so ticked off the other night?" Tony asks once he can manage complete sentences again.

"Excuse me, you just went ahead and assumed I was doing _what_ in my spare time exactly? And acting jealous like you have _any_ right to begin with-" Loki says, rising to the accusation.

"I was  _not_ acting jealous," Tony denies, cutting him off.

"Oh, you so were," Loki volleys.

"I was not!" Tony exclaims. "You can have sex whenever, wherever and however you want. It's not my problem—”

" _Thank_ you for the permission. At least you're done wondering if you're taking advantage of me," Loki snorts.

"You tried to offer me a blowjob in exchange for staying the night," Tony points out.

"It almost worked," Loki replies smugly.

"Hey, if you want to sleep with me. Just say so. No need to beat around the bush," Tony snarks.

"So," Loki replies simply and Tony is a little ashamed of the amount of time it takes for him to get it.

"What— really?" he says, expression shifting from open surprise to a glare when Loki starts laughing at him.

"Pity the blow to the head didn't make you less of a shit," Tony mutters darkly.

"I've been informed that I am significantly less horrible than before, at least," Loki shrugs carelessly.

"Yeah, I noticed. I also heard you were a real cute kid not so long ago. Lucky you, you got to skip right over the awkward teenage years," Tony snorts.

"I suffered through them the first time, I assure you. There was no need for a repeat performance," Loki groans, as ever irrationally glad he managed to pull that particular trick off.

It's unusual that Tony doesn't reply right away with a sarcastic comment or a joke. Instead, he starts _looking_ at him and that's even more unsettling—the unreadable expression on his features. So Loki does his level best to ignore it, resorting to the age-old method of ignoring things until they go away. The problem is that it doesn't go away, or at least not quickly enough for his taste.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he snaps when he can't stand it anymore. Tony doesn't seem particularly concerned about being caught and just leans back in his chair.

"I was just thinking... we've never talked before, have we?" he says contemplatively.

"You must be losing your memory, old man. Yes we have," Loki replies.

"We've exchanged words. But we haven't actually had a conversation," Tony clarifies. It's actually a little sad, he thinks, that they've spent more time screwing than speaking and they've only had sex the one time.

"Ah. Devil's in the details, is it?" Loki hums, choosing not to acknowledge the statement although it is true.

"Where's my phone?" he asks after a pause, determined to change the path of this discussion.

"I don't know. Where was it last?" Tony shrugs, allowing it.

"In my coat," Loki says.

"That's over there," Tony tells him, gesturing at an almost certainly designer dresser that appears to have most, if not all of his clothing and belongings stacked neatly on top of it. He wonders who did that because it doesn't seem like something Thor would do but neither does it seem like something Tony would bother with.

"I want it," he demands, glancing at Tony expectantly until he gets up with the ghost of an amused sigh.

"You're used to having people obey your orders, aren't you?" Tony asks idly as he moves towards the stack.

"It doesn't happen as often as you might think. Although it is infinitely amusing to me that you do," Loki replies lightly, laughing when Tony lobs his phone at his face.

"Sorry about the iPhone," Tony says, false pity dripping from every syllable.

"Spare me your superiority complex, Stark," Loki says, rolling his eyes as he begins skimming through all that he's missed.

"You know I met Steve once, Jobs not Rogers. Real asshole," Tony continues, heedless.

"The amount that I do not care would astound you," Loki deadpans without looking up from his phone.

"Brat," Tony tells him, halfway back to his chair when Loki lifts his phone and snaps a quick photo.

"Did you just take a photo of me?" Tony asks, bewildered.

"Billy didn't believe me," Loki says like that explains something which it really, honestly doesn't.

"Do I look good at least?" Tony sighs.

"Not in the slightest," Loki replies, tapping through filters.

"That's unfair. Don't put that on the Internet," Tony grouses when Loki finally consents to show it to him.

"Fine. Come here," Loki sighs as though it's a enormous burden he's shouldering entirely for Tony's sake. Gesturing him closer, Loki holds the phone out to arms length and switches the camera direction. Tony understands quickly and leans into the frame next to him, flashing his most charming smile.

Loki deliberates on the caption for a while before posting the one he thinks will annoy Tony the most.

"Just won the Hot Nurse Jackpot at Avengers tower." - #tony stark #stark #iron man #avengers #loki

"What even is your life?" Billy comments almost immediately.

"Please, please tell me you're not sleeping with him," Kate adds a minute later and honestly, Loki just can't resist after that.

"That one was blurry," he lies, summoning Tony over to try again. It's almost too easy to manipulate him into position and, at the very last moment, turn and kiss him as he takes the photo. 

Tony looks torn between annoyance and disappointment when Loki pulls back, but Loki is too busy posting the photo to take pity on him.

"Did you just-?" Tony says and then sees what he's doing just a fraction of a moment too late when Loki smirks and hits "post."

"Great. Just great," Tony says instead.

"Things I didn't need to see today," Kate comments after Loki tags her in the post.

"I think we are officially the queerest Avengers team ever," Teddy comments a few minutes later.

"Please tell me Thor doesn't have an account," Tony sighs resignedly as he drags up Loki's account on his tablet and watches as his dignity trickles away.

"He does. Oh. Hmm," Loki replies, realizing what that means just as Tony drops his face into his hands.

"I believe Captain America and Widow follow me as well," Loki chuckles after a thoughtful moment.

"Wow, I am so screwed. Thanks for that," Tony says sarcastically, wishing he had something else to throw at Loki, head injury be damned.

"You're welcome," Loki smirks with a slight bow of his head. "Just tell them I tricked you into it."

"You did."

"Precisely. The only part you'll have to lie about is whether or not you liked it."


End file.
